


way she kills you makes you feel alive

by questionsthemselves



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Aleta likes pinning muscled pretty boys down and making them beg for her, F/M, Femdom, First Time, I don't even know y'all, Light Dom/sub, Oviposition, Pre-Ravagers Stakar and Aleta, Stakar is uptight and also in starry-eyed love, my brain did a thing, overtones of domme!Aleta and sub!Stakar, sorry this one's more pure fuckin' porn too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 05:13:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13652130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/questionsthemselves/pseuds/questionsthemselves
Summary: It’s rude to stare. Stakar knows that, and he still can’t stop.“Hey, eyes up here,” Aleta snaps her fingers in his face irritably, “what, this the first time you been with a woman that’s got something besides an innie.”She says it like she’s expecting the answer to be no, but when Stakar gulps and doesn’t answer, one eyebrow pulls up in disbelief.“Right,” Aleta starts to pull away and Stakar scrambles says “wait, no please, i just wasn’t expecting it i haven’t…” Stakar stops, turns to stares at the uneven dents in the metal wall of his cabin.Or, Aleta and Stakar and ovipositors





	way she kills you makes you feel alive

**Author's Note:**

> so this is my first time writing f/m smut, be gentle! set sometime when they're both young-ish pre-Ravagers

It’s rude to stare. Stakar knows that, and he still can’t stop. Aleta’s pants are loose, practical leather, at least three visible holsters for her lovingly maintained collection of blasters –and a slight bulge at her crotch. He’s not sure how he hadn’t noticed before, but now he knows it’s there he can’t look away.

“Hey, eyes up here,” Aleta snaps her fingers in his face irritably, “what, this the first time you got with a woman that’s got something besides an innie?” 

She says it like she’s expecting the answer to be no, but when Stakar gulps and doesn’t answer, one eyebrow quirks up in disbelief. 

“Right,” Aleta starts to pull away and Stakar scrambles for words, says “Wait, no, _please_ , I just wasn’t expecting it, I haven’t…” he stops, stares embarrassedly at the uneven pockmarks on the metal wall of his cabin behind her. 

“Haven’t what?" Aleta crosses her arms over her naked chest, and Stakar eyes go helplessly to the curve of her breasts, the spray of oily ink black hair on her shoulders. Blocky dark tattoos spiral down both her arms, splashed with red, highlighting the flex of her muscles. She’s strong, Aleta is, could throw Stakar across the room if she had a mind. She’s done it before. 

“How ‘bout you stop drooling and finish your sentence before I go take care of business myself?"

Shit. Stakar can feel his cheeks flushing hot. Damn pale skin. It’s been too long since he’s been planet-side long enough to work up a respectable tan. He doesn’t really wanna finish that sentence, but he can’t let her think that it’s her, that there’s something he doesn’t like about her – she’s the most beautiful person he’s ever met and she’s _perfect._

“Just I haven’t really been…” Stakar’s hands wring behind his back, feet shifting apart before he can stop himself. Stupid military training. “Most of the times women approached me on Arcturus it was ‘cause they wanted something, or a couple times it was ‘cause they’d been hired to take me out.” 

Aleta stares at him, completely unimpressed. 

“Really. No one on the whole planet,” she drawls. “Big hotshot pilot prince."

She looks him up and down and then rolls her eyes. "I think someone was just terrible at picking people up.”

Stakar ignores this slight on his person, and stoically finishes, “So I stuck with standard bots. Doesn’t mean I’m averse to… other things.”

“Things like my ovi,” Aleta says dryly, “Well that’s gotta change. I’m not sticking around here forever, and ‘sides, gotta figure out what you like ‘n don’t like, and you ain’t gonna get that from a doe-eyed bot doing whatever you tell it to.”

Stakar tries not to droop. He doesn’t want to do things with other people, he wants to do things with Aleta. 

“Aw, that’s sweet,” Aleta looks altogether amused.

Oops. He must have said that out loud. 

She stares at him for a long minute, as Stakar widens his eyes and tries his best to look both apologetic andfuckable.

“Alright, alright, stop making those weird puppy dog eyes,” Aleta rolls her eyes again, “Come here and kiss me.”

Stakar manfully resists the urge to fist-pump and stumbles forward, until he’s only a breath away. She stares up at him boldly, and he reaches out a hand to cup just under her ear. 

“Well, c’mon then,” Aleta lifts her chin up. Stakar slides his other hand carefully around her waist to scoop her close, press her against him as leans down to kiss that gorgeous frowning mouth. 

For a beat, she doesn’t move. Then she pushes up on her toes, tilts her head and reaches both her hands up so she can cup his face and tilt him the way she wants. 

Her lips are so plush, and Stakar drops his other arm to wrap around her waist, pull them even closer together. She nips at his bottom lip sharply, tugs at it until his lips part and she can fuck her tongue into his mouth. She kisses like this is her right, like he's hers. Her thumbs press hard along his cheekbones and he shivers, something hot and sweet rushing down his spine as he lets her take control. 

She slides one hand around to his nape, grabs with blunt jagged nails,pulls him into her so she can fuck his mouth with her tongue. Stakar moans, still and trembling and kneading at her sides. He wants this so much, wants her _so much_. 

Aleta pulls away with a last teasing tug at his lower lip, and Stakar moans, ducks his head to nuzzle plaintively at her temple.

“Want these off you,” Aleta plucks at his clothes. “C’mon, want your skin on mine.”

Oh. Yes. Stakar wants that too. He grabs the hem of his shirt to yank it over his head as he tries to kick off one boot. All he gets for his attempt at multitasking is getting stuck in his shirt and nearly tripping over his half shed boot. Finally he works his top free, yanks off one boot and then the other, looks up to see Aleta unconcernedly shimmying her pants down her hips and fuck. She’s got more tattoos, these ones all rich, bright colors, splashed down her side, the curve of her belly, a blocky kaleidoscope down her thighs. 

He manages to keep shoving his pants down his thighs as he stares, can’t take his eyes off the bunch and flex of her muscles. She looks like she could lift an M-drive over her head with those legs and not even break a sweat.

As soon as he straightens up, Aleta stalks forward, puts her hands on his chest and pushes. He stumbles back, knees hitting the bed. She nudges him up climbing on top and bracing herself over him. She still has her underwear on, but Stakar can feel the bulge of her ovipositor against him, hard against his stomach. 

“Gonna make you see stars, flyboy,” Aleta braces her hands over his shoulders, hair swinging forward so Stakar can’t see anything but her. She ducks her head, lips bruising into Stakar as she molds her body to his, smooths her hands down his arms. He rests his hands on her lower back, thumbs along her side until she sighs impatiently into his mouth and reaches back to relocate them to her ass. 

“Don’t have to be that much of a gentleman,” she murmurs against his lips, then tilts his head a little more so she can fuck her tongue inside again. She doesn’t stop, keeps kissing him and kissing him until he’s trembling against her, rutting up as she grinds her hips down in dirty promise. 

When Aleta finally pulls back, all of Stakar’s nerves seem dim against the want beating in his chest. 

“So you’ve never had anything inside you,” she says. Stakar swallows dryly, shakes his head. She grins, slow and fierce as a sunrise, traces a finger over his lips, down his neck, to tap at the notch of his collarbone. 

“I’m gonna make you feel so good,” she croons, “Open you up with my fingers, get you all slick for my ovi. You want that, darling?”

Stakar nods, can’t make his mouth form words. 

“No-o, i need you to tell me you want it,” Aleta grinds her hips back into him, her ass rubbing teasingly against the tip of his cock. “Tell me you want me inside you.”

Stakar licks his lips, croaks out, “Want it, want you ‘leta, _please_.”

“Good boy,“ Aleta grins a mouthful of teeth, grins wider when he shudders. “Like that, do you? You gonna be good for me, spread your legs and let me fuck you?”

Stakar keens, hands squeezing at her thighs as his hips rut up. 

“Not yet, darling,” Aleta pushes up on her knees, ignoring Stakar’s whimper. She reaches over to rustle through the jumble of tchotchkes on the beside table, pluck out the tube of slick. She scoots back, one leg at a time, settles between Stakar’s legs. 

Her hands run delicately down the insides of his legs from his knees to the crook of his hips, and she looks Stakar in the eyes as she slowly, deliberately pushes them apart. He swallows, and lets her. 

Aleta doesn’t look away as she flicks the cap off the lube, drizzles a generous portion over her slim fingers. Everything feels exposed, open, vulnerable and Stakar can’t decide whether he likes it or not. Aleta must notice because she pauses, cocks her head, then reaches out and grabs his cock. 

He nearly jackknifes, eyes squeezing shut as she jerks him off with slow smooth strokes, stops to toy with the head before sliding down to cup his balls. 

“That’s it, just relax for me,” Aleta husks in a voice all smoke and sex. Her fingers trace down his perineum, circle around his hole. It still feels strange and Stakar shifts, hands knotting into the sheets. 

“Wanted you like this since the first time I pinned you down, felt you squirming underneath me,” Aleta says, and Stakar shudders. He remembers that, remembers the way she’d snarled at him about how this was _her_ take, _her_ job. How she’d done some kind of fancy move that landed him on his stomach, one arm in a joint lock and a blaster to his ear. 

He’d never been so turned on in his entire life.

Aleta keeps tracing around his hole, massaging at against his perineum, trailing a finger up the side of his dick and then back down to tease him some more. 

it’s not enough, not nearly enough, and Stakar lifts his hips pleadingly. 

“You want something?” Aleta says sweetly, “You want something, you gotta ask for it.” 

Stakar flushes hot again at the promise in her voice, curses his complete lack of poker face. His throat works as he tries to make the words come out. Aleta quirks a brow and then completely unfairly stops touching him at all, and no, no, _no_ that’s not what he wants. 

“Please, want you t’touch me,” Stakar ekes out past dry lips, “Want you– want you–”

“Yeah? Where do you want me?” Her finger moves to rest lightly against his hole, not pressing. Stakar bites his lip, curls his hips into her, says quiet and desperate, “Want you inside me.”

“Yeah, that’s it,” Aleta’s voice is smug, and she slides a slick finger inside smooth as Stakar clenches, mouth falling open. “That's it, so good.” 

She stays there for a moment until Stakar starts to relax, pulls her finger out and fucks it in again in slow steady movements. She pauses to drizzle more lube over her hand, then rests two fingers against him. 

“C’mon, bear down for me,” her voice drops, low and commanding and Stakar does as he’s told. it’s strange, new, the way it feels to have something inside of him. He can’t decide whether he likes this either, but he loves the way Aleta’s looking at him with something wild and wanting in her eyes, the way her body moves over him as she ruts herself against the bed. It feels intimate, tender and raw, the way she fits inside him. 

Aleta twists her fingers, keeps moving them gently in and out. The room is quiet, the sound of Stakar’s breathing heavy in his ears,the squelch of lube echoing loud. 

“Ready?” she purrs, and before Stakar can ask what for she hooks her fingers up and in and–

_Fuck._

Fuck, fuck, fuck, she’s rubbing against something that sends pleasure stabbing up into him hard, like nothing he’s ever felt. His head thunks back hard against the mattress, and he reaches up to scrabble at the wall, brace against it and push himself down onto her hand. 

“Yeah, right there, darling?”Aleta sounds altogether too satisfied with herself, but Stakar can’t bring himself to care. She pulls out to fuck him again in lazy strokes before hooking her fingers up against that spot again.

“Fuck, Aleta _,”_ Stakar reaches his hands for her, curls up weakly to try and grab at her, “ _Please_.”

“You need more?” she says innocently, pulls her hand out and puts it on his stomach, pushes down. “You want my ovi inside you?” 

And Stakar’s still uncertain, still a little unsure, but she’s made him feel so good and he wants to make her feel good too, so he says, “Yes.” 

“Alright then,” she pats his hip, “Gotta get me all slick for you first.” 

Stakar sits up, looks at her unsurely. She settles herself comfortably on the side of the bed, swings her feet over onto the floor and cocks her head. 

“‘C’mon, don’t you wanna touch me?” 

And Stakar does. He’s never seen an ovipositor before outside of a textbook, but right now that doesn’t even matter, he doesn’t really care what she’s packing – this is part of Aleta and he wants to see all of her. 

He scoots himself of the side of the bed, falls to his knees between hers. Her ovi is flushed green, like the flush along her cheekbones, and slick is beading at the slit. It bobs as Aleta shifts, and Stakar’s never seen anything like it. He stares, wraps his hand around it slowly, tentatively. 

“It’s not gonna break, ya know,” Aleta sounds amused, and she rests her hand on his, guides him to stroke it firm from base to tip. “Like this, long strokes, like you’re milking it.” 

She lets go to grab the lube, pinches out another drizzle over his hand. Stakar squeezes her ovi slow, picking up the pace as her eyes darken and her breathing speeds. 

“You know what an ovi is for, right?” Aleta reaches out to brush his hair off his forehead, twists a piece around one finger. Stakar doesn’t know how she’s so calm, he certainly wasn’t when the positions were reversed. “’S for laying eggs, a clutch of them, all nice and safe and warm in someone’s belly.”

Stakar’s hand freezes, until Aleta pushes up into it with a disgruntled hum. 

“Would you like that sometime, hm?” she rasps, “Being pinned down, stuffed full of my ovi as I fill you all full of my clutch?”

Stakar can’t even think straight anymore, head spinning dizzy with things he’d never even imagined. Every word she whispers worms its way into his head, twisting itself deep until he can’t do anything else but _want._

“I think you’re ready now, huh darling?” Aleta tugs at his wrist, curving to pull him up onto the bed “C’mon, on your side, there you go.”

And Stakar goes, flushing hot and dizzy as she arranges him how she wants him, pushes one knee up and hooks her chin on his shoulder. Her hips squirm closer, and then her ovi prods at his hole. This is it, she’s gonna press herself inside him, gonna take him.

“Breath, Stakar,” Aleta pokes at his ribs. Stakar blinks, lets out his breath with gasp. He hadn’t even realized he’d been doing that. Then Aleta’s ovi pushes inside him, slowly, inexorably, and Stakar makes himself go limp and soft. He feels so _full._ It’s dizzying, this letting her inside him, the stark vulnerability of it. How had he never known it was like this?

Aleta’s hips pulse forward, working her ovi in deeper and deeper until finally her hips are flush to his. 

“Ahhh, fuck yes,” Aleta sounds almost drunk as she mouths at the curve of his shoulder, hands groping possessive at his ass. “So tight on me, _fuck_ , like you were made for this.” 

She rolls her hips in slow, shallow movements, running her hands across his skin soothingly.  Then she angles down, fucking hard into that same spot she found with her fingers, grinds against it and doesn’t let up as he keens and shakes apart around her. 

“Right there, huh?” Aleta husks out. “This what you needed, didn’t you, needed a good fucking and you didn’t even know it.”

Stakar mewls, curling his hot face into the pillow as he claws at the headboard and arches back into her. He should hate anyone talking to him like that, but someone when she does it it does nothing but wind him higher. 

“Gonna feel you come around me darling,” Aleta’s hand wraps around his cock, and _fuck_ it’s too much, all of it together. Stakar stuffs a hand in his mouth, tries to stifle the noises that keep escaping.

“No, none of that,” Aleta slaps lightly at his hip, “Don’t do that, wanna hear you.” 

So Stakar does, lets all the pleading spill out, begging Aleta in a jumbled slur. 

“Yeah, gonna make you come around my ovi,” Aleta snarls, “Wish I had a clutch, wanna fill you with my eggs, all _mine._ ””

And Stakar wants that, wants to be hers, and then her hand is on his cock again and she thrusts in deep, grinding into him perfect and it’s too much, and he finally breaks apart.  Aleta pins his hips to hers, ruts into him hard as he comes, and holds herself there. Her ovi inside Stakar throbs in slow steady pulses, until he’s twitching with overstimulation. 

“Shhh, almost done,” Aleta palms shakily down his side, “Hold still for me, so good.” 

Then finally, slowly she pulls herself out, giving Stakar a last fond soothing stroke as she does.  Stakar lets himself roll onto his back as pulls away, and he stares at the ceiling dazed. 

“Wow,” he says, then flushes. Way to sound like like a dork. But he hadn’t even known sex could feel like that, be like that. Aleta sighs, stretches like long as a cat, then props herself up on one elbow to grin down at Stakar.

“Was pretty damn good for me too, flyboy,” but then her voice turns serious. “Don’t think this means forever.” 

Aleta squints at him, adds dangerously soft, “You _don’t_ own me.”

“i wouldn’t want to,” Stakar says blankly. He can’t imagine a person like her being tethered, and he’d never want that about her to change. She stares at him narrow-eyed for a beat, and then sniffs, flops over and scoots back into the cradle of his arms. Stakar drapes his arm around her waist, buries his face in the grease-smoke smell of her hair, and wraps himself gently around her.

**Author's Note:**

> please feed the author comments


End file.
